Bleeding Heart
by V0ID
Summary: In the year 1348 Cecinah Chulainn is a slave girl just trying to stay alive.But when a nun named Isolde rescues her and bestows  what she calls a gift from God, everything changes. Can she learn to control this gift or will it bring about an untimely end?
1. Awaken

Bleeding Heart, by V0ID

Chapter 1- Awaken

A young girl was walking a cow back to her master's house, tugging on the rope that was looped around a smelly animal's neck. Crickets sang their evening song and an easy wind rustled the trees; leaves floating onto the forest path. Rabbits skittered amongst the tangled brush, and her mouth watered at the thought of how good they would taste if she were allowed to kill then eat them. She let herself imagine chasing after it with a speed akin to the wood spirits she secretly believed in, then skinning the animal for a stew. The main road wasn't advisable to take, lest the bad air infect you with the pestilence that was making it's way around.

Finally, after the tedious process of clearing a path for it she secured the cow in it's pen, noticing form the sun's position that the journey home had taken longer than expected. Her bare feet pattered on the dirt path as she ran into the small stone house, warming yesterday's stew for when her master returned.

Soon enough the creaky door slammed open, accompanied by the stomp of boots. The man threw aside his tattered cloak and sat in the only chair, seeming annoyed by the lack of cutlery."Do you have dinner ready for me, Cecinah?"

She wordlessly set down the steaming bowl and a crude wooden spoon; watching as he finished the whole thing. After a long day in the fields her stomach felt like it was eating itself, and after years of similar treatment her limbs were pinched and thin with hunger. Her chin-length fray of startling green hair was somehow always dirty, and her clothes were stained and tattered. It was a hard life here, but much better than living on the streets. At seven years old, the girl who would one day be known as the fearsome Witch of Brittania was a domestic slave, or what her master liked to call 'indentured servant.' He wiped his face with a hand and gestured to the bowl. "Are you stupid?" Cecinah picked up the dishes and put them back in the cabinet, hoping he'd notice the growls of her stomach. Whatever food they had around the house was consumed by her master, only the scraps finding there way onto her plate. The man shoved back the chair and settled on a worn floor pallet, grabbing his cloak once again to use as a blanket.

"Master, is there anything else you want?" She asked, longing for the hay-lined stall where she slept. When she received no answer Cecinah carefully shut he door behind her, making beeline for her bed amongst the animals.

* * *

><p>Before sunrise was the ideal time to get up, and having breakfast to make she tiptoed into the house, not bothered by the hay that still stuck to her clothes. Afraid the rattling pots will wake her master, she takes out a hunk of stale bread to serve him. Looking through the cabinets she finds a piece of cheese, which she doesn't bother to scrape the mold off of and shoves in her mouth.<p>

When Master still doesn't wake she rips off a tiny piece of the bread, still famished after no dinner. Tapping her fingers on the sticky table she's unsure why he isn't eager for his breakfast as usual, and risking a tiny peek under the barely rising covers, she feels what can only be described as a scream rising in her throat. Her master's skin is a seething mass of red lumps, about the size of the coins that she only sees in the marketplace.

"Cecinah...help me." he croaks out, grabbing her arm and pulling the little girl to his side. Something rejects that touch, how his breath fetid breath chokes blankets her face and seems to smother her, and the hand plucking at the neckline of her dress. "Be a good girl and help your master... I hurt all over, make me feel-" he doesn't finish as she rips away, tears involuntarily trailing down her face when she grabs the bread and runs, away from the man who's sick in more than a few ways, away from the neglect and glass-eyed animals she used to be one of. Stopping in a dark alley to scarf down the bread, Cecinah realizes what a dire mistake she's made.

In a time of plague and disorder the streets are unsafe for women, especially little girls like her. Danger could be hiding around every corner, and the rosy morning glow still leaves a lot in the shadows. She rubs at the tearstains on her face, determined not to appear an easy target. The bread is long gone and she's still hungry, and noticing a rubbish heap begins sifting through for anything to quell the gnawing hunger. When nothing of interest is found, she sets her sight on a habit-clad woman who's walking down the alley, carrying under one arm a sack of what Cecinah hopes is cheese. The little girl tries to avoid suspicioun by walking in way she hopes is casual, and when she's parallel to the nun makes a swipe for the bag.

Instead of appearing angry the woman smiles, letting the girl stuff her face. "Are you hungry?"

Her question is answered as Cecinah wolfs down the entire bag's contents. Caught off guard by the generosity, the girl bows her head and replies. "Yes, milady."

"So polite." she smiles again, this time with a saccharine sweetness. "I can give you more food. A place to stay, too." When Cecinah looks confused she catches the girl in an unexpected hug. All that Cecinah Chulainn hears before everything plunges into darkness is the faintest whisper. "I can give you your heart's desire."


	2. Heart's Desire

Chapter 2- Heart's Desire

Cries of the sick and dying wake Cecinah what from she can only describe as sleep. It had been the strangest dream... she remembered falling onto the street and feeling her body hit the ground, but her conscious had continued to plummet into a sea of stars. Flashes of a mysterious orb interchanged with a myriad of colour and people she had never met before, reaching out, welcoming with arms made of light. When she touches her hair she finds that it's freshly washed, and when she sniffs the new dress it doesn't smell like cows, something completely new.

"You're awake." the same woman from the street enters the room and closes the door. "I was so worried when you passed out, and the nunnery was just around the corner." Sitting up Cecinah could see the whitewashed walls and a plain wooden cross hanging over her bed. The nun set down a heaping bowl of porridige, smiling even more brightly as she sat at her bedside. "Well?"

The girl practically inhaled the steaming mush and moaned with discomfort after licking the plate clean. It was the most food she had ever eaten in such a short time, and her stomach bulged underneath the crisp sheets. Eyes wide wide with appreciation she beings to stammer out. "Thank you, mila-"

"Call me Isolde." She laughed gleefully, and carasseing the soft green strands of her hair began speaking reverently, as if in prayer. "You have been blessed with a gift, sweet Cecinah. When I brought you through these doors, God sent an angel all the way from Heaven just to see you." The gullible little girl's eyes were almost the size of saucers. "The angel said that because you are so beautiful and special that you get a magic power ... that makes people fall in love with you."

Startled out of her reverie Cecinah pushed back the covers and swung her feet over the side of the bed. "B-but..but magic can only be made by witches! And witches serve the bad man below us, so does that mean I'm evil? I don't...I don't want to be evil!" Clutching at her neck she discovered a silver chain, and the nun consoled her as she tried to figure out what the pendant was.

"No, calm down. It's a good kind of magic, given only to a person that God chooses...you're fine, really. Now there's something you must do for me with this very special power. Many people in town are very sick, so this place isn't safe for you. Go to the wealthiest man in town, Lord Thorradon. He will take you in, I'm sure of it."

Taking a cloak from the plain dresser she tied the folds of black fabric securely at the girl's neck. Cecinah noticed for the first time that a silver heart now hung there, glittering in the afternoon light the streamed through high-set windows. "But he's a lord..and I'm...I'm just-_._"

"Nonsense. I bet an angel has told him about your gift and he's already expecting you. But one more thing...if you don't seek him out and use this gift, then the bad man below **will** take you."

* * *

><p>After stopping a few times to check the pockets of the corpses lining every street, Cecinah evntually reached the grandest house in town. Ignoring a white cross that was painted on the wall she dared give the askew door a tiny push, leaving footprints in the grime that coated the speckled stone floor. She heard nothing but the buzzing of flies and could smell the stagnant stench of rotting food; but finally the floorboards above her head creaked, an indication of inhabitants.<p>

"Hello?" she called, a bit scared how only an echo answered her. Peering around the kitchen she took the rock-hard bread and put in in her pocket, and finally decided to see what was taking him so long. Crawling up the stairs, she made sure her dress stayed dust-free. "Lord Thorradon...?"

The voices of a few men reached her ears as she opened the door to what she assumed was the master bedroom.

"-that won't be problem, and just leave the- hey, I didn't know he had a daughter!" The other men followed his gaze to where she stood, taking in the body of Lord Thorradon lying spread-eagled on the fancy rug, a dent in his skull where the speaker's iron bar had struck him. She turned to run and heard them drop the candlesticks they were taking off the mantelpiece.

"Get the little girl! Can't have her running that mouth." Hands grabbed at her ankles and pulled her back into the room. Cecinah screeched as one of them prepared to hit her with the bar and another held her in place, moldy breath tickling her face. A silent plea for life made her right eye tingle, and the men's expressions softened.

What appeared to be the leader set down a painting he had been defacing and barked an order to the to restraining men. "Fendrel! Hadrien! Release her...now."

When she's let go her legs are shaking, and seeing the bloody iron bar once again gives her the sudden urge to pee. Picking up the sack of loot he had tossed aside, the man in charge stooped down to her height, his gap-toothed smile strangely identical to the nun's. "Hello, dear. My name is Terrin. What's yours?"

* * *

><p>One of the men sitting nearby handed her a handkerchief to wipe her greasy hands on, the turkey leg she had just been eating completely demolished. A donkey-pulled cart rattled underneath them; making slow progress to the city. As a band of looters they had to sell their spoils somewhere, and Cecinah assumed that there would be a good number of wealthy families there that had heard about her special gift.<p>

"When will we get there?" she asked, drawing the heavy cloak closer to keep out the evening chill.

"In a few days, don't worry. We're taking back roads to avoid anyone who will stop us." A golden clip, no doubt stolen, had been pinned in her hair, and judging from how the donkey struggled to walk the cart was carrying much more of the coveted metal.

"Are you done, sweetie? Here." One of the men plucked the bone from her grasp and threw it into the bushes lining the road. Cecinah closed her eyes and the creaking wheels lulled her to sleep, awaiting the journey's end.


	3. Advantages

Chapter 3- Advantages

Cecinah was getting used to running away. She had never known a real home, but wasn't jealous of the children who did. Able to get by on her own she figured life on the street wouldn't be so hard, especially with all those empty houses to search for food. But the nun's advice to find someone wealthy seemed firmly rooted in her mind, and the traveling men didn't fit the criteria she had been told to look for. So after the sun's amaranthine-painted departure from the sky and the men were definetly asleep, Cecinah set off for the nearest town; it's oil lamps and campfires even visible from where they'd stopped. Fearing wolves she carried a stick and assured herself she was ready to use it on anything that blocked her path. Owls hooted their nighttime song and forest animals scuttled amongst the brush; confused about the enormous graves that had been dug. Each was big enough to hold dozens of people, and even from where she stood the air was rank with the stench of decay.

A twig snapped, and Cecinah froze as an icy finger of fear stroked her spine. Now the stick seemed incredibly flimsy, and she rolled it between her hands. Whatever was coming stepped out from behind a tree, his face illuminated by a rusty latern. The creases around his mouth split with concern. "Are you lost, little girl?"

She nodded, feeling a familiar tingle in her golden eyes as they met his brown ones. His expression softened futher; showing rotten and stumpy teeth as he smiled. "Well you're in luck-"

An arrow hissed through the air and caught his shoulder, sticking out grotesquely as if he were an oversized pincushion. When he screamed with pain Cecinah jumped backwards, and her skirt catching on a log she ended up in a musty pile of dead leaves. The earthy scent made her eyes water and the ground was beginning to shake with hoofbeats. From the ground she saw the wounded man begin to slink away regardless of the crimson trail he was leaving; foolishly thinking he could outrun the chestnut horse that had burst out of a thicket of trees and was getting closer by the second. It was too dark to see it's rider but from the sword that glinted by the fallen latern's light she assumed it was a bandit good enough to kill a knight; and therefore deadly. For the sake of self-preservation Cecinah took off the opposite direction, not caring about the rocks that dug into her bare feet.

After making good distance, red-faced and heart pounding realized that she felt a shred of concern for the old man, and curious about his fate she hesitanty turned back. Keeping in the the brush and sneaking from tree to tree she eventually reached the area and found the horse tied to an oak; riderless. The sword rested in it's scabbard and in it's polished blade she saw a latern wielding figure behind her. He was bent over the dead man, making long brutal slashes in his face with a hunting knife. Knowing it was the rider and escape was impossible she picked her way slowly over the leaves, and taking a sizable branch from the forest floor sneaked up behind him and brought it down in his head. Instead of crumpling as she'd hoped he merely let out an exclamation of surprise.

"Hey!" He whipped around, and seeing her trembling form smiled warmly. "I don't mean any bad."

She spoke up, keeping most of the waver out of her voice. "T-then..what about him? You would have cut me up too."

The man's voice had a thick accent, and filled with so much warmth and comfort to her it was the sound equivalent of piping hot cheese melted on crusty bread. "How could I harm you when I had little 'uns myself? That man...took them away from me. I'm Sir Benedict of Frostdale...my estate is a short ride away."

Cecinah sank to her knees and clasped her hands behind her head; eyes downcast with respect. She glanced at him just long enough to feel the farmiliar tingle, perfectly predicting his next statement.

He slung the lantern across his back and attached it to a hook on his belt, which curiously kept it from hitting his legs as he walked. "A good child such as yourself shouldn't be left alone in the woods, filthy and starving as you probably are. My housekeeper could give you a bath and food...would you like that?"

Nodding, she was secretly pleased at how happy her smile made him.


End file.
